


A Time for All Things

by Nimori



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Disturbing Themes, M/M, despite all that this is a romance, see end notes for spoilery warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-27
Updated: 2006-12-27
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimori/pseuds/Nimori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hogwarts has a new librarian, Severus has Opinions, Harry has secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Time for All Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opaquevision](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=opaquevision).



> See end notes for additional spoilery warnings. Written for Smutmas 2006.

Hagrid had managed to outdo himself; the tree nearly touched the great hall's ceiling, and every inch of the monstrosity shimmered and sparkled and blinked and flashed.

"Is Flitwick trying to blind us?"

Severus turned, curious to hear such a sentiment from other than his own mouth. Hogwarts' new librarian stood with his arms folded over his chest, giving the tree a glare that might have withered it if Flitwick hadn't spelled it to stay fresh for the season.

"Bitter, Potter?" Severus said, and Potter started. "I'd have thought you would be overcome with holiday cheer now that you've destroyed your way to world peace."

"It's a bit disheartening to realize I saved the world so it could be tarted up in tinsel and gaudy fairy lights," Potter said, and Severus raised his eyebrows. Potter's sour expression turned sheepish. "I don't like Christmas," he mumbled to his feet.

"Excellent," Severus said, real pleasure surprising a smile out of him. "Perhaps this year Donner and Blitzen--" He jerked a thumb at Hagrid and Flitwick, who were chatting with the tree's fairies. "--will expend all their energy on forcing _you_ to express your holiday cheer."

That won an unlooked-for laugh. "I hope I can resist as well as you have all these years." Potter bowed mockingly and took himself off to the bowl of eggnog.

_I've lost my bite,_ Severus thought, but it was inevitable, really. They grew up and learned not to fear him. Not that Potter had reason to fear anyone, not with a Dark Lord dead at his feet.

Supper was blessedly quiet with only a dozen of the brats in residence, most of them glum over being stuck at school for the holidays. The less fortunate of the staff members sat to one end of the head table and tried to pretend they didn't envy Poppy, who'd gone off to Bermuda, or Minerva, who'd had the indisputable excuse of attending her granddaughter's new baby. 

The compulsion for company at the long and mostly empty table threw the seating arrangements into their usual holiday disarray. Severus did not feel up to fending off Flitwick's incessant squeaky requests to join them, so he left only two seats between himself and the others instead of taking a place at the far end like he wanted.

Potter, having his pick of seats, naturally chose to fill the gap, nearer to Filch than Severus.

The lone empty chair between them proved enough of a barrier, or else Potter did not want to talk. They both picked at the goose -- Severus found it gave him heartburn, and he wondered what the boy's problem was. Likely he was accustomed to finer food at his father's house.

Which begged the question of why Potter had not gone there for Christmas. He hadn't lost the lottery, as enough of the staff had volunteered to stay this year.

A brown owl swooped in, late for the evening mail and looking out-of-sorts, and dropped an envelope in front of Potter. Severus would not stoop to craning his neck, but he did adjust the silver tea pot so he could see the envelope's reflection properly.

Even backwards, he recognized the messy handwriting; he'd seen too much of it during the war. Both wars. 

Potter had opened it, and now cursed under his breath.

"Did you not get what you wanted?" Severus asked, torn between disgust and vindictive glee that James's son had turned out every bit as ungrateful as James himself.

Unexpectedly, Potter answered. "Season's tickets for the Magpies. I'd already tried to get some, but..." He rubbed the tickets together. "He'll want me to take him."

"Such a chore, attending sporting events with your father."

Potter shot him a narrow look. "What do you care?"

"For an ungrateful brat who doesn't appreciate his father's gifts? Not a thing."

"You don't even like my dad."

That was entirely irrelevant, though Potter didn't seem to think so; he refused to speak to Severus again for the remainder of the meal even though Severus, much to his own chagrin, tried to resume conversation several times.

At least his apparent camaraderie with Potter kept Flitwick and his non-consensual Christmas spirit away.

* * *

"What have you done to the library?" _Venomous Magical Creatures of Western Europe_ landed on Potter's desk with a resounding bang.

Potter dipped his quill and looked up over the rims of his glasses. "Lower your voice, please."

"There's no one here," Severus shouted.

"Lower your voice, or I'll have to ask you to leave." A hint of smugness crept into Potter's voice, and the floor gave a warning tremble under Severus's feet.

He ground his teeth, knowing the library would eject him on the librarian's command, and he'd find himself on the other side of the castle. Pince never would have dared, but Potter... With a great deal of difficulty, Severus moderated his tone. "I have just wasted three hours searching for this book. It was incorrectly shelved."

Potter glanced at the title. "I moved it to the Potions section."

"It's not Potions. It's Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"The content is almost entirely on anti-venom potions."

"Which are used as a _defence_ against dark creatures."

A grin curved Potter's mouth, impudent and knowing. "Afraid the students will think you can't teach anything but Potions? Bit of a one-trick pony, eh?"

"I am _afraid_ the headmistress placed the wealth of Hogwarts' knowledge in the hands of an idiot."

Potter ignored the insult. "So, I've been meaning to ask. Since you're back a second time does that mean the curse broken, or are you only allowed back because you're not teaching two consecutive years of Defence?"

"The position remaining empty for a year broke the curse," Severus said grudgingly. "Are you going to shelve this book properly when I return it?"

"Of course," Potter said, dipping the quill and returning to his ledger. "Right in the Potions section where it belongs."

* * *

"Snape!"

Severus jerked, and bashed his head on the corner of the extra-large copy of _Giants of Wandmaking_ ; the spine hung out far over the shelf.

"I can ban you from the library," Potter said. "And I will if you don't stop rearranging my books."

"They're the school's property, not yours." Severus rubbed his head and glared at the book that had practically attacked him. "Why haven't you stored this one on a higher shelf?"

"Because they have to go in order! I arranged the stacks so the oversized books won't put any eyes out, but _someone_ keeps moving them around."

"It was good enough the way it was when Madam Pince was in charge."

"Yeah, well now I'm in charge." Potter shot him a vile look and snatched the book Severus had put away in its proper place. "And I'm starting to think she retired to get away from you."

Severus narrowed his eyes.

"Don't even think about it," Potter said. "I'm not resigning, no matter how much of a nuisance you make yourself. You might as well accept the fact that the library is under new management." 

Severus scowled at the boy. Eighteen and in charge of the largest and most complete collection of magical knowledge in Europe. Not even Durmstrang, a mere four centuries old, boasted such a library. It galled him that Potter had his hands, so recently sticky with Hogsmeade-weekend sweets, on such an irreplaceable trove, that he had domain over Severus's childhood sanctuary and adult vice.

Severus raked over Potter's appearance: flush-faced, angry, hair more rumpled than usual. He took in the casual clothes, which were black and white like the Magpie's uniforms. The temper, taken with Potter's reaction to his father's Christmas gift, took on new meaning.

"Enjoy the game?"

To his surprise, Potter bit his lip and looked away sharply. "Get out of my library and don't come back until you can follow the rules."

Severus blinked. Potter, Mr Harry James Potter, Gryffindor, boy-hero and all-around troublemaker, had just lectured him on rule-breaking.

Flabbergasted, Severus allowed the brat to stalk away, stiff-backed and square-shouldered, with the last word.

* * *

Christmas Eve found Severus rearranging his drinks cabinet to fit more books between the bottles. A timid knock startled him into nearly braining himself -- again -- on the open upper door.

"Flitwick," Severus snarled, and the knock came again, bolder now. He stormed over to the door and flung it open. His shout died before he'd opened his mouth.

"Truce?" Potter held out a flat package, clearly a book.

"Your imagination astounds me." Severus snatched the gift from his hands and tore the wrapper off at once, and then frowned at the cover. _Venomous Magical Creatures of Western Europe_.

"Happy Christmas, Snape. Now you can stop making a mess of my library."

"The school's library." Severus ran a thumb over the spine, quite accidentally moving away from the door. Potter took it as an invitation and slipped inside, shutting the door behind him.

"I do hope you're not expecting a gift in return," Severus said.

"I'd settle for tea," Potter said. His contrite manner held, so Severus did one better and opened a bottle of brandy. The glasses were new -- aurors had broken the old, searching his house -- but dusty as he hadn't had occasion to use them, and he wiped them clean before pouring.

"This is quite a collection," Potter said, impolitely staring around at the overflowing bookshelves, the unshelved piles heaped on and between the furniture.

"I sold my property last summer." He'd needed the gold to pay for his legal fees. "Minerva refuses to let me expand my quarters to accommodate my possessions."

Potter tipped his head back. "There's lots of room on the ceiling."

Severus looked up, annoyed that he hadn't thought of that. A sideways sticking charm and a stepladder, and he could double his shelf space. No more books in the drinks cabinet. Or on the floor.

"I used to love my dad's study," Potter said, still gazing at the ceiling. "He didn't have quite so many books, but they seem like more when you're six. I spent hours in there with him while he worked. He'd boot me out if I was too noisy, so one day I just picked a shelf and started at one end."

Severus grunted. He'd felt the same in his mother's workroom, but he didn't say so. "Black left you that monstrosity on Grimmauld Place, did he not? As I recall it had a respectable library."

Harry shrugged. "Ministry took a lot of it. Uncle Remus helped me weed out the rest of the cursed books after Sirius died."

Lupin, not Potter's father.

"Potter. What are you doing here?"

"Sorry. I came to apologize for yelling at you the other day. I was... I'd had a rough day. Not that that's any excuse. Sorry."

Severus eyed the boy. He'd grown up in the year spent chasing down the Dark Lord's horcruxes -- or perhaps he'd grown up sooner, and Severus hadn't noticed. A year without contact had faded his memories of a small arrogant child, always causing trouble but never punished for it. Always at the back of his classroom, looking like James.

He'd vented on Harry as much as he dared during his school years. Once a month James had stormed into the school to rage at him over it, and Severus would take the opportunity to strike at the real target of his wrath. Not that it did either of them any good; Albus always intervened and somehow, somehow Severus always found himself shaking James Potter's hand and wishing him well as he left.

Severus downed his drink, uncomfortable at the reminder that it had been _James_ who had never lost faith in him when circumstances had forced him to kill Albus.

"I know Dumbledore had his reasons to trust you," James had said to him at his trial. "And I know about secrets in war time and how badly things can look when it all goes pear-shaped." Black, after all, had almost been hauled off to Azkaban.

Only to die because of Potter's -- Harry's -- stubborn refusal to learn occlumency.

Did James blame his son for Black's death? Thinking back to the early days of the second war, Severus thought the trouble started before that. He couldn't be sure; he'd never stayed at headquarters longer than he had to.

"What did James do to you?" The question slipped out before he could think better of it. Victory had made him soft.

"He didn't do anything." Harry set down his glass and stood. "I did. Leave it at that. Happy Christmas, Snape."

* * *

The children returned, noisy and bad-tempered to be back at school. Severus glared them out of his way in the corridors, but he could do nothing to budge them from the library, which rustled and whispered and giggled in undertones. He gave the occupied tables an all-purpose scowl, and swept up to the main desk.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter," Severus said. "I should like some assistance in locating a volume on Roman protective household magic. The previous librarian, obviously a madwoman, shelved them under Spell History."

Potter rolled his eyes. "You haven't even looked, have you? Anyway, anything on Roman domestics is checked out. Maybe you should reserve a copy _before_ you hand out the assignment next time."

"I don't need instruction on how to teach."

"And I don't need instruction on how to shelve my books. However, if you could see your way to having tea with me, I might have one or two volumes in my study."

Severus rattled his fingers on the desk. "Authors?"

"Fittlewaite. Vors."

"Early Vors?"

"Yeah."

"Potter, why on earth do you have books on domestic defensive charms?"

Potter scowled. "I do own a house, you know. And Sirius didn't exactly leave an instruction manual to the wards on it. Are you going to have tea with me or not?"

Severus didn't know when _that_ became the issue. "Yes, fine. But it had best be tea. _Tea_ , not any of your over-spiced exotic blends." Merlin save the boy if he tried to offer Severus an herbal.

Potter ducked his head, hiding a smirk or worse. "Just tea, I promise."

* * *

Potter lived on the third floor. He had a nice view of the hills behind the castle, but it was a bit inconvenient, out in a wing that could only be reached by one temperamental staircase.

_He_ had custom bookshelves that slid out from the walls.

"There's five feet of wizard space spelled into each one," Potter said, tugging on a handle. The whole shelf slid out of the wall. Double-sided, Severus noted. Expensive to order, but he might be able to replicate the design himself. Potter had eight of them.

"Two are empty," Potter said, red-faced as he selected the volumes on Roman domestic wards, "and I've only just started the second side of the sixth. I thought I'd be buying more books now that they're my job, but somehow all my purchases end up in the school library."

"Hogwarts does have a book budget."

"I spent it."

Severus vowed to excavate for Potter's additions at the next opportunity, if he'd spent the year's budget in less than five months. Before Christmas, he would have expected them all to be quidditch books, but now he found himself curious.

Tea was tea, with both plain biscuits and biscuits with dollops of jam in their centers. Severus used his wand to flip through the books to keep their pages jam-free. The assignment had seemed simple enough until Colwell, this generation's answer to Hermione Granger, had spouted off a dozen questions Severus couldn't answer. He'd told the boy to look it up himself and taken ten points from Hufflepuff, but he wanted to have the answers before the essays arrived on his desk.

Potter, it turned out, had a knack for wards, and an appalling ignorance of terminology.

"The ones inside the walls are... heavy and solid, kind of stone-like--"

"Geo-runic. It's a Germanic ward, to keep out drafts and vermin."

"Right. The doors and windows are different."

"Porous."

"Yes. But much stronger. Why is that?"

"Windows and doors are natural entry points, which means they're more vulnerable than walls. The wards are meant to let in light and guests and keep out enemies and foreign magic."

"I get the feeling they're sacrificial."

Severus raised a brow. "You could tell without knowing the exact spell?"

"Yeah. They feel..." Potter didn't finish.

"Probably house-elf blood."

Potter wrinkled his nose, but he seemed to have inured himself to some of the harsher aspects of magic. "Anyway. I untangled most of the spells and convinced them to answer to me."

No mean feat, knowing Black's family, especially not for a young wizard who didn't even know what a geo-runic ward was.

But who could recognize one by _feel_. 

"Why are you here, Potter?" Severus squinted at the boy -- man, really, but it was hard to think of him so when he had jam on his lip and crumbs on his shirt. "You should be haring off around the world, battling vampires and yetis so you can write a book and come back to teach."

That startled a laugh out of Potter. "Minerva did offer me the Defence class, you know. I turned her down."

Severus didn't ask, but Potter took pity on him and answered anyway.

"I don't want to teach." Potter glanced at him from under lowered lashes. Severus would have called it flirtatious if he didn't know damn well Potter was weighing potential reactions to a confession.

"Out with it."

Potter rolled his eyes. "You were the better choice. And I told her so."

It took Severus a moment to process the news that he owed his job to Potter.

"Don't look at me like that. She made me an impulsive offer, and she knows I was right to turn her down. I'd make a terrible teacher." A hint of a smirk curved Potter's mouth. "Please, don't tell the students -- I'm quite sure they'll try to drown me in the lake for inflicting you on them again." 

Severus was not to be diverted. "Your father didn't influence your 'recommendation', did he?"

Potter sobered at once. "No. I mean, he tried to convince me not to jump to conclusions that last year of the war, but I wasn't about to listen to him. You know me, stubborn Gryffindor. Anyway--" Potter stood up and banished the tea. "I have another Fittlewaite -- Etruscan, not Roman -- if you want to borrow that one, too."

He tugged on one of the central bookcases, and Severus quickly stood up for another look at the design. 

Instead he got an eyeful of Potter's collection of erotica, compulsively shelved by subject. 

Potter seemed to remember what lay on the other side of the shelf, for he froze. Severus met his wide-eyed gaze through the gap between 'Short Fiction, Hetero' and 'Hardcore Photography, Gay'.

"Honestly, Potter. You are an adult. I won't take points for your pornography," Severus said. Potter still did not move and the silence stretched on, so Severus tried a smile. It felt odd on his face until it settled into a more familiar smirk. "I do compliment you on your taste. Not a 'Birds on Brooms' calendar in sight." He ran a finger over the spine of a particularly tasteful book of male nudes. "I used to have this one."

To his surprise, Potter lost all colour and slammed the shelf back into the wall.

"Here." Potter shoved the Fittlewaite at him, and jerked back as though singed when their hands touched. "Thanks for tea. I mean having tea. With me. I hope the books are what you need."

Severus found himself outside Potter's door with three borrowed books and no idea of what had just happened.

* * *

The brown owl arrived again at breakfast. Severus, back at his proper place at the opposite end of the table from Potter (as Minerva had firmly placed them in September) had a poor view of the delivery. He had to pretend concern at some innocuous doings at the Slytherin table in order to crane his neck.

He couldn't quite see Potter's expression, but a moment later he left the table, letter crumpled in his fist. Severus debated following, decided he wasn't Potter's keeper, and then somehow found himself at the library after his last class scurried away at the end of the day.

"Ah," Potter said when he spotted Severus. "I was going to find you. I was a bit of an ass yesterday, and I want to apologize." He pulled a book wrapped in a brown Honeydukes bag from behind the desk and held it out, and when Severus peeked inside he found the collection of nudes. "You can bring it back with the others."

"Why are all of your apologies accompanied by books?"

"I'm a librarian," Potter said, ducking his head, grinning. "Books come with everything. Apologies, grocery lists, tax returns..."

Severus stared at him until he stopped grinning and started blushing.

"Seems like the only thing we have in common," Potter mumbled.

Severus sniffed. "If you think that, you're a bigger idiot than I presumed," he said, thinking of all they had worked for during the war. Apart, yes, but towards the same goal.

Potter had clearly taken his words some other way, for he stared at Severus with wide eyes and parted lips. Severus took it as his cue to escape, and left with a dramatic flourish of his robe.

And damned if Potter was getting his book back before Severus was good and ready.

* * *

The next day Potter cornered him in the corridor outside the Defence classroom, wearing such a grim expression that Severus wondered what new calamity had befallen the young man. 

"Would you like to have dinner?" 

Severus blinked. Aurors had asked him if was a Death Eater in much the same tone. "I wasn't planning on starving."

"In Hogsmeade. With me." Still no compromise in tone.

"If I decline, are you going to hex me?"

Potter blinked, then laughed. Some of the tension ran out of him, and he had the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry. I've never asked anyone out before, and you're not the easiest person to begin with."

So many things were wrong with that statement that Severus didn't know where to start. He decided to ignore the baffling bit about Potter's love life, and focus on the relevant part.

"You're asking me out."

"Yeah."

"On a date."

"Um. Yeah."

Severus stared at the green eyes, wide under a furrowed brow, as if they could somehow explain to him Potter's apparent madness. " _Why_?"

Potter turned an unattractive scarlet. "I just thought... you've been making so many excuses to visit the library..."

"I certainly have not!"

Potter cast him a doubtful look. 

_Potter, I need another copy of_ Ghouls of Bulgaria _. I've spilled tea on the preface of mine._

_Potter, I'm out of passes for the Restricted Section._

_Potter, your card catalogue tried to bite me._

_Potter, I can't reach the section on grindylows. Either bring it down to a reasonable height or climb up and..._

Potter was still staring at him.

"I haven't," Severus insisted.

"I must have misunderstood. I thought, when you were touching my, um, art books--"

"Erotica."

"--that you were trying to tell me something."

Severus quite honestly didn't know what he meant by anything anymore. "All right."

"All right? You _were_ trying to tell me something?"

"No." At least he thought not. "But I will go to dinner." Severus pursed his lips. "You're buying."

* * *

Dating Harry Potter -- and by their fourth dinner together Severus had to admit that was what he was doing -- turned out to be an adventure. He never knew if they would end up dining at restaurants he would never have been able to afford or revisiting his muggle roots at a bowling alley. By the time January rolled into February, Harry had managed to destroy Severus's last lingering misconceptions regarding his arrogance, sense of entitlement, and social skills.

"Waving one's hand over one's head is not an appropriate way to gain the waiter's attention."

"Well, how else was I supposed to get him over to our table?" Harry had slipped his hand into Severus's at some point on their walk back to the school, but Severus could not say when.

"Eye contact." The palm resting in his own was warm and sweaty.

"Eye contact? He's a waiter, Severus, not a legilimens." Warm and sweaty and _comfortable_. Harry Potter was sweating on him, and he liked it. That was the funny thing about romance: it snuck up on a wizard, and by the time he realized what was happening he didn't care, even if the entire Hufflepuff quidditch team was boggling at them from the pitch as they strolled by, hand in hand.

"It's his job to know when we require service. Eye contact is sufficient. How on earth did you grow up James Potter's son and have fewer social graces than your average Weasley?"

Harry shrugged. "We didn't go out a lot, and Dad always ordered when we did. I don't know what he did; I wasn't paying attention."

"Ah, the mystery clears."

"Oh, hush."

They reached the main entrance and, when Harry would have gone up, towards his rooms and no doubt another lingering and semi-public goodbye outside his door, Severus turned right.

Towards his own rooms, and the possibility of a proper good night -- one that did not take place in the corridors.

Harry, foolish trusting Gryffindor, turned with him.

"Would you like to come in?" Severus asked smoothly when they arrived at his quarters. He had bait in the form of a biography of old Godric himself, but Harry agreed quickly enough, though he let go of Severus's hand to rub his palms on the front of his robe. He sat on the sofa without invitation, and Severus squelched a surge of annoyance. He _wanted_ Harry to make free with his furniture.

He wouldn't object to Harry making free with _him_ either, and it was perhaps a sign of how far gone he was that the thought did not disturb him in the least. Perhaps he should have paid more attention to Poppy when she pestered him about post-traumatic stress disorder and its symptoms. 

"Drink?" Severus asked -- again, smoothly, and he hoped Harry was taking notes. 

"No, thank you," Harry said. "I'd rather you didn't either."

Surprised, for Harry had had no trouble with the bottle of wine at dinner, Severus put away the brandy and sat down on the sofa next to Harry. "Why is that?"

"You want to kiss me, right? At least I think that's why you invited me in, and if it is, I'd rather you have a clear head. Not that I think you're drunk or--"

Severus, sensing a babble coming on, cut him off with the expected kiss. A light kiss, no more than Harry had offered after their other outings, but decidedly not occurring in a drafty third-floor corridor. 

"Well," Harry said, when Severus drew back. "That was nice. More than nice, I mean. Do it again? Please. I can't seem to shut myself up."

Severus obliged, and took a few liberties while he was at it, pulling Harry close and deepening the kiss. Something about Harry's posture gave Severus pause. He wasn't quite pulling away, but neither was he inviting more. Disappointment bit more sharply than Severus expected, but he settled back, still holding Harry close.

"I like you, Severus," Harry said out of nowhere. "A lot."

Severus sighed. What could he say to that? 'I like you, too' was impossibly juvenile. 'You're a neurotic, obsessive, over-analyzing nuisance, but I enjoy your company nonetheless' lacked a certain romantic flair. He settled on wit. "Exposure has merely dulled your dislike."

"I'm serious." He was also leaving, extracting himself from Severus's arms. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

A chaste peck to the cheek and Harry, bane of Severus's existence for seven years and now elusive object of his desire, slipped away.

* * *

"Potter, explain to me why a book on werewolves is shelved in the demonology--" Severus halted at the sight of two Potters occupying the librarian's office, both messy-haired and looking at him as though he'd barged in on a private conversation, as he likely had.

James turned back to Harry. "He calls you Potter? I thought you said you were seeing him."

"We're at work, Dad," Harry said, coming around his desk to take the book from Severus. "He's not about to call me snookum-wookums where the students can hear."

"Or ever," Severus said.

"You're right, this goes in Dark Creatures." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, bumping his glasses up. The rims left marks on his forehead. "I must have put it back in the wrong place."

"Harry," James said. "Look, just think about it. Remus and Tonks will be there. You can invite Ron and Hermione if you want."

"They're spending Easter with Hermione's parents."

"Neville and Ginny then. And Severus is welcome, of course." James sounded more tired than grudging, and Severus folded his arms over his chest. 

Harry pushed past both of them. "I have to get back to work. Flitwick assigned the first years an essay on levitation charms, and the fifth years have checked out everything on levitation for Trelawney's yogi workshop. I'll let you know about Easter." He swept out, taking the book Severus wanted with him.

Severus looked at James.

"He's never dated anyone before," James said, "and I won't pretend I'm happy he's decided to start with you."

"I was under the impression Harry didn't much care what you thought."

"Then you're mistaken." James sighed. "He seems happier. Just keep it that way, and I'll stay out of it." He stalked out after Harry, muttering about Sirius coming back to haunt him for letting Snape date his godson.

* * *

"The Magpies are playing tomorrow."

"I hope that's not an invitation," Severus said, nibbling on Harry's ear.

Harry twisted his fingers in Severus's hair and tilted his head to give him better access. "I'm going with my dad."

"I would prefer not to discuss your father while you're sitting in my lap." 

"Sorry." Harry wriggled around until he was facing Severus, straddling his thighs. "I only mention it because I just bought a box of books at an estate sale. I thought you might like to look through them while I'm gone. Severus, are you listening to me?"

"No," Severus mumbled, sucking on Harry's neck.

Harry sighed and cupped Severus's face. "The password to my office is 'Padfoot and Prongs'. I'll leave the box on my desk. Repeat it back to me."

"Padfoot and Prongs, box on your desk, estate sale, wanton librarian. Got it."

"Wanton, am I?" Harry pressed against him, warm and squirmy. His cock prodded Severus's stomach, and Severus pulled him closer and ran his hands up Harry's jumper.

"Mmm, take off your shirt."

" _No._ No, it's quite all right." Harry slid off Severus's lap and tugged his jumper down. 

Severus, accustomed by now to Harry's lightning-fast retreats, slumped back against his sofa and rubbed his face. 

"Sorry. I've got to be up early for the portkey. I guess I won't see you until after." Harry fiddled with his sleeves, and then darted in for one last kiss.

Biting back some sharp words about timing, Severus saw Harry to the door. Then he took himself off to the bath to indulge in some solitary wanton behaviour.

* * *

"Padfoot and Prongs," Severus told Harry's door, frowning. He was certain the password had something to do with James's schoolboy exploits, and he was irritated to find that perhaps Harry was not quite so estranged from his father as Severus thought.

The promised box sat on Harry's desk, but Severus barely glanced at it, caught short by the unexpected and very conspicuous pensieve sitting next to it. 

Severus circled the desk. Was the pensieve compensation for Harry's invasion of Severus's privacy three years before? It seemed like a typical Harry apology; the boy was obsessed with fairness. Severus found himself less curious over what memories the pensieve contained than what Harry would consider equivalent trade.

If he looked, would he witness Harry falling off his broom during a match the year Pettigrew escaped from Azkaban? Some childish humiliation concocted by Draco Malfoy? He hoped Harry had not decided to share Black's death. Curious as he was over the details of the fight at the Ministry, he didn't think he could pretend any emotion over Black when Harry returned from the quidditch match.

Whatever it was, Harry wanted him to see it. He leaned over the bowl and let the memory pull him in.

He found himself standing just inside a vaguely familiar door, blinking at the light, which was much brighter than that in Harry's office. He'd been to the Potters' house once, shortly after the Dark Lord returned, and he recognized the entryway; this time the banister marching up alongside the stairs was wound with a green garland that sparkled with fairy dust and glittering red bows. Somewhere the wireless was playing 'Silent Night'.

"Mail's on the table, Dad!" Harry, gawky and messy-haired, slunk out of the kitchen, a parcel clutched to his chest. "You got a postcard from Uncle Remus."

There was a muffled reply from the back of the house.

"Upstairs, doing my homework," Harry called back. Severus, well used to spotting signs of mischief in teenagers, would have bet his last knut that homework was not on Harry's agenda. Severus hurried up the stairs after him, and managed to slip into the room before the door closed.

Harry at once tore off the plain brown paper wrapping, revealing a jar of dried mandrake leaves bearing the Slugg and Jiggers logo. Severus raised a brow as Harry rushed over to his desk, where a cauldron bubbled amidst an appalling mess of books and clothes and stray quidditch gloves. He'd never, in five years of potions lessons with the boy, seen Harry so enthused over brewing.

Harry counted out six leaves and dropped them into the mortar. He grabbed the pestle and started to crush them -- far too roughly -- but jumped when the door opened.

"Good news," James said as he walked in, staring down at the postcard in his hands. Harry dropped the pestle on his partially-crushed mandrake leaves and tried to block James's view of the desk with his body. "Remus might be back in England for Christmas. We might just get an old-fashioned Marauder holiday after all."

"That's great, Dad." The stupid boy backed into the desk, and then leapt forward, crying out when the hot cauldron burned him. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. If Harry thought his incompetence in the lab would be news to Severus...

"Harry!" James darted into the room, postcard forgotten. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Would you get out? I'm trying to do my homework."

James did not get out, but turned Harry around. "Take off your shirt so I can look at it."

Harry did, with obvious reluctance and, while James was inspecting the blistering line, tried to shield the cauldron with his shirt.

"Idiot," Severus breathed as the shirt promptly caught fire. James put it out at once, but Harry got in the way trying to do the same, the cauldron upended, spilling down James's leg.

He reacted quickly, spelling it cool before it could seriously burn. "What were you brewing?" he asked through gritted teeth. His entire trouser leg was soaked, and Severus bet the scalded skin hurt. "Can I banish it or does it need a counter-spell?"

"I don't know," Harry said.

"Well, what does your textbook say?"

Harry's gaze darted not to his Potions text, but to another book, lying open to a place marked with a lock of long black hair bound with a blue ribbon. 

"You idiot boy," Severus said. The Ravenclaw Seeker? One of the Patil sisters? Harry had attended the Yule Ball with one or the other. Not that it mattered now that the fumbling attempt at a love potion was a puddle on the floor.

And a streak down James's leg.

Severus's stomach plummeted. Harry hadn't added the hair to bind the potion to his intended target, nor had he added the powdered mandrake leaves for stability. 

"Harry?" James held up his hands, staring at them with wide eyes. His pupils were slowly dilating. "What were you making?"

"I just wanted Cho to like me," Harry mumbled. "Are you okay? Should I call Sirius?"

"What's the... thing... book say?"

Harry turned back to the desk and flipped through the pages. James's eyes widened even further and his gaze slipped down Harry's bare back to settle on the burn just above the waistband of his jeans.

He took a step back, and seemed to want to take another and couldn't. "Harry, go do that thing you said."

"What?" Harry looked up from the book, and Severus wanted to shake him for making eye contact. It would only aggravate the spell. "Call Sirius, you mean?" 

"Yes. Now."

"Okay. You're not mad at me, are you?" Harry asked, walking right past his father on his way to the door, still not comprehending the danger. Even when James seized his wrist, Harry only frowned. "You're hurting me."

"Get Sirius."

"I can't if you won't let go." Harry pried at James's fingers.

"Your skin is so soft," James said, sliding his free hand up Harry's arm. "I really think you should get Sirius."

"Let go!" Harry twisted in James's grip, but James only pulled him close and caressed his chest, delicate fingers skimming down his stomach.

"Harry," James breathed. "Oh my god, I'm going to hurt you."

As James pushed Harry onto the bed, Severus fled the room.

* * *

Harry, _his_ Harry, was waiting by the garland-draped banister in the hall, pale-faced in his Magpies shirt. "Hey," Harry said, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"You might have warned me." Severus tried to shut the door, but it wouldn't budge for him. 

"Sorry. I thought you'd know it was something bad from the time I looked at your memories."

Inside the room the younger Harry screamed, and Severus flinched. "This is quite a bit worse than your father taking off my pants in front of half the school."

"I guess." Harry chewed his lip. "It took a couple days for the potion to wear off enough for him to resist the worst urges. And even then it was another six hours before he could fight it enough to call Sirius."

Severus closed his eyes. Downstairs, the wireless had switched to 'God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs'. In the room behind him, young Harry's shouting took on a panicked pitch.

"We never told anybody but Sirius," Harry said. "I wanted to, but Sirius talked me out of it. Said the Order needed me and I wasn't any good to anyone if the Ministry broke my wand."

"You were a child. You could not have been held responsible."

Harry snorted, finally showing some emotion. "You forget the way the winds were blowing that year. Fudge would have wet himself at the chance to discredit me, make the public think I was crazy and dangerous. Mad Harry Potter, using a love potion to seduce his own father..."

"No one would have believed that."

"You think?" Harry asked, and no, Severus didn't think. "Now every time I look at him I remember what I made him do." Harry rubbed his eyes. "I have to put the memories in a pensieve before I can see him. That way I know what happened, but I don't actually remember it." He ran a hand along the garland-wrapped banister. The memory in the bedroom screamed again, urgent and pain-filled now, but Harry didn't seem to notice. "He kept petting my hair and telling me he was sorry, that he would stop soon, that I had to stun him the moment he could let me up. That was the worst part. That he knew the whole time what he was doing. He cried, you know. More than I did."

Severus could not block out the sounds of the young man being raped in the room behind him. "Can we please continue this conversation elsewhere?"

"Hmm? Yeah, we can have tea in my office. Did you get a chance to look through those books?"

Severus wanted to shake him, but instead he touched Harry's face gently. "No. We can look through them tomorrow."

Harry looked away, blinking rapidly, and pulled them out of the memory.

* * *

The silence grated his nerves almost as much as the muffled screaming had, and Severus sat far from the pensieve until Harry put it away.

"I do wish you had told me earlier." And not by springing a graphic pensieve memory on him.

"I didn't know where to start. Anyway, now you know. If you want me," Harry said, colouring but meeting Severus's gaze, "and I think you do want me, or at least you did--"

"Harry."

"--then you need to know about this. Because I thought I could be with you without telling you, but I can't, and then I couldn't _tell_ you even though I wanted to--"

" _Harry._ "

Harry stopped talking and looked at his feet.

"I'm glad you trusted me with this." Severus had confessed far worse to Albus over the years, but Harry was different. Harry was _his_. Revolting thoughts of protecting Harry from the slightest paper cut churned in his head; obviously he'd gone quite mad during the war. He ought to see Poppy about it at once, but instead he folded his hands in his lap to keep them from doing anything foolish.

"What are you going to do?" Harry conjured a teapot, but didn't fill it.

"Do? Nothing." _Except cultivate a little more patience._

"And my dad?" Harry asked, challenging Severus with a lift of his chin. "What are you going to do about him?"

Bloody Gryffindors. "I won't track him down and duel him, if that's what you're worried about." Severus wanted to, though he was unfortunately familiar with the effects of love potions and knew James could not have stopped himself. 

"Good," Harry said. "I've told him you're coming for Easter. If you still want to see me, that is."

Severus took the teapot from him and spelled it full of hot water. Enduring James's company seemed a small trial now, compared to the effort Harry went to to see his father. "Don't imagine I'm going to leave you alone to ruin the library."

Harry smiled.

* * *

Lupin had changed in the six months since he and Severus had been forced to occupy the same room. Some combination of food and sex had filled him out, brought a healthy glow to his face.

Or perhaps it was merely the moonstruck looks he kept giving Tonks.

"Tell me I don't develop that idiotic expression in your company," Severus murmured to Harry as James cleared the table.

"Don't worry. Your glower is still in place." Harry patted his knee under the table, an action that made James drop a glass and snared Lupin's attention away from Tonks's electric purple eyes.

"I was surprised to hear about you and Harry, Severus," Lupin said. "Weren't you trying to kill each other this time last year?"

"Harry was trying to kill me," Severus said primly. " _I_ was attempting to yet again save our boy wonder from blundering into one of the Dark Lord's traps." 

"I would have figured it out," Harry murmured.

"When? After your intestines were a smoldering heap on the floor?"

"Probably," Harry said, grinning, but James winced.

"Harry, would you help me with the pudding?"

"Yeah, okay." Harry cast Lupin a nervous smile and tossed his napkin on the table. Severus caught his hand and squeezed it. "Behave," Harry whispered, but he squeezed back. "Please."

"So, Severus," Tonks said. "Are you happy to be back at Hogwarts?"

"Marginally. The children are incompetent, but that's understandable. They've only had one decent Defence master."

"Severus!" Harry shouted from the kitchen.

"You weren't on staff when you taught your little club," Severus called back, smirking. "You don't count."

Lupin, ever annoying, laughed at his deliberate misinterpretation. "I'm glad to see Harry so happy. He's hated coming home for holidays since Sirius died."

Severus grimaced, but lost track of his reply. Behind him the kitchen door shut, and straining his ears only brought him a muffled murmur. No raised voices, and yet... He threw his napkin down and excused himself. Lupin had already gone back to staring at Tonks, and didn't notice that Severus turned the wrong way for the toilet. A quick eavesdropping charm from the hall, and James's voice flowed, quiet but clear, to Severus's ears.

"... he ever hurts you." 

"It's a chance I'm willing to take. I don't think he would though, not deliberately. Er, not anymore. He's been... good." Harry paused, and a dish clinked against the countertop. "I haven't been able to talk to anyone about this since Sirius died."

"I wish you could talk to me. No, I understand if you're not comfortable, just... Severus, Harry?"

"Why not?"

"You hated him."

"Mum hated you."

"Point," James said. "I just hope that you know what you want, that what happened hasn't damaged your ability to form healthy relationships."

"Will you stop reading muggle home-psychiatry books? I'm fine, Dad. I'll _be_ fine. I won't know if I can be with someone unless I try, right?"

"Harry--"

"No, don't."

"I'm sorry." A shuffle, and another clink. "I'm glad you came home, Harry."

"I'm glad too."

There was a long silence, then someone sniffled.

Severus cancelled the spell and went back to the dining room.

* * *

Severus thought he had done a stunning job of extending the olive branch, but Harry didn't agree.

"I shook his hand," Severus said as they strolled away down the street Harry had grown up on. It looked pleasant enough, moderate houses with large gardens and an abundance of trees. The muggle streetlamps gave off a warm yellow glow.

"You mean you wrung his hand like a wet flannel," Harry said.

"Did I? I didn't notice, what with fending off all the veiled threats."

"He's my father. He's supposed to intimidate my boyfriends."

Severus shuddered. "Don't ever use that word to describe me again."

"What, boyfriend?" Harry smiled and walked a little closer, taking Severus's arm. "Do we have to go back to Hogwarts? I mean, couldn't we go somewhere else?"

"I hardly want to be wandering the streets all night."

"We could go home. My house."

Severus stopped. "I expect we could."

* * *

The house at Grimmauld Place was cold and forlorn, but Harry warmed it up with a charm. Once the gas lights were lit and the fire was going in the drawing room, it seemed a much cheerier place, particularly without Black's overbearing presence, thought the décor still screamed his loud and questionable taste. 

Harry rubbed his hands, staring into the fire. 

"Are you certain you wouldn't rather return to Hogwarts?" Severus asked, and flipped the edge of his cloak over Harry's shoulders.

"No, I'm okay." Harry leaned into Severus. "I remember when Sirius's mum died. It had been her and that crazy house elf alone for years. I was petrified of her portrait until Sirius had someone in to remove it."

Severus had met Walburga Black in the flesh; he rather thought her portrait would be a pale imitation of her madness, but he didn't say so.

"I could have called my dad when Voldemort sent me that vision," Harry said suddenly. The firelight turned his glasses into blazing discs that obscured his eyes. "He gave me that stupid mirror for Christmas and I threw it away. I could have called him, but instead I ran off after Sirius myself."

Severus cupped Harry's chin and turned his head. His eyes reappeared, green and shining too much. "Would it have stopped you from rushing headlong into the next trap?"

"No."

"The Dark Lord knew your weaknesses. He broke older, more experienced wizards."

"I guess."

"And I _know_."

Harry tipped his face up for a kiss, and Severus obliged. "Could you do something for me?"

"Define 'something'."

Harry searched his face. "Could you stop if I ask you to?"

Severus had to swallow twice before he could speak. "Always."

"Good. Then kiss me again."

"That's two somethings," Severus said, and Harry laughed and tugged him into range.

It was a tentative kiss, but it grew confidence as it proceeded and Harry didn't pull away. Harry's mouth opened, a slow invitation that Severus accepted, slipping his tongue inside to caress Harry's. Severus stroked Harry's back, wanting to hold him tight.

"I'm trying, Severus."

"You don't have to."

"I want to. I want this to be easy. I've been trying so hard, with you, with my dad... I just want things to be like they should."

"Perhaps we should wait a few days," Severus said. He did a masterful job of keeping the regret from his voice. "A visit with your father--"

"No. I'm not putting my life on hold any more." Harry clutched at his robes, and then ran his fingers down Severus's chest. Suddenly, shockingly, they darted down to cup Severus's cock. It swelled at once, electrified by Harry's touch.

"I've wanted to do that for weeks," Harry said, squeezing, rubbing his thumb along the side of Severus's erection through his robes. He shifted forward, pressing his own firming cock to Severus's hip, and Severus groaned and caught him about the waist. "Why haven't I done this?" Harry asked, voice muffled by Severus's chest. Severus could not answer, too unbalanced by this demanding creature that looked like his Harry that twisted in his arms.

Control skewed away into a frantic sort of rubbing, driven by Harry, who ground against him until Severus was certain they were both going to come in their clothes, standing, like a pair of teenagers in a closet. Harry finally broke away, flushed and panting, but this time it was to undo his shirt.

Severus swallowed hard, and raised his own hands to his collar, where he paused.

"Yes," Harry said simply, and Severus slipped the first button from its hole.

Harry undressed himself, seeming to focus entirely on his buttons. Severus caught him sneaking a few looks as Severus undid his own robes, but he pretended not to notice. He took his time with his own clothing, so Harry could finish first and position himself somewhere safe.

Which turned out to be kneeling on the rug in front of the fire, naked and waiting but with hands clenched on his thighs.

Severus joined him. "Would you like a back rub?"

Harry's expression, which had been determined and a bit grim, brightened. "I didn't know we could do that. Do you mind?"

"I would not have offered if I did. Turn around." Severus found an empty bowl on the mantle and conjured some oil. Not as good as hand-brewed stock, of course, but it would do. He warmed it between his palms before laying his hands on Harry's broad shoulders. Harry sighed.

"Am I being silly about all this?"

"No."

"You'd tell me if I was."

"At length, with enough sarcasm to singe your eyebrows off."

Harry laughed, and his shoulders unknotted a fraction. "Oh, that's nice."

As Harry slowly relaxed under his hands, Severus began to stray down Harry's sides and arms, around to his chest. He rubbed his palms in circles over his nipples until they hardened and, when Harry caught his breath, kissed the side of his neck. 

"Would you like to lie down?"

Harry didn't answer, but he turned in the circle of Severus's arms, and they lay down on the rug, facing each other, the fire to Harry's back and wreathing his body in a warm golden glow.

Harry touched Severus's chest then, slick with oil from Harry's back. He let Harry explore, sucking in a sharp breath when Harry reached his navel and didn't stop. His fingers, warm and slick with oil, curled around Severus's cock. 

"Do you like that?" Harry asked, and Severus gave him a look. "Sorry, stupid question."

He stroked the full length a few times, until Severus growled and rolled onto his back, pulling Harry with him. Harry tensed a little, and pressed Severus's chest with both hands as if he could push him into the floor. They both stilled.

"What do you want?" Harry asked. He hands relaxed.

Severus thought. Mainly, he wanted to have drilled his fifth years more thoroughly on the dangers of love potions. "Do you recall page twenty of that book you loaned me? The two wizards by the fire?"

"Oh," Harry said, flushing. "Yeah, I can do that." He slid a little lower, until they were cock to cock and chest to chest. "Like this?"

"Yes..." Severus arched up and Harry smiled shyly one moment, and in the next he ground his hips down with a devilish grin. Severus caught both their erections in one hand, and Harry's grin vanished into an 'o' of surprise.

"Oh," Harry said again, and came into Severus's hand.

He slid off Severus to curl bonelessly against his side, one leg thrown over him, leaving a slick mess behind.

Severus licked his fingers, smirking at the entranced look on Harry face as he watched. He went back to stoking his cock, alone now, until Harry's hand joined in. Their fingers twined around his cock, and it jerked at the touch of Harry' warm damp skin.

Harry licked his lips, watching down the length of Severus's body. "Do you want me to suck you?"

"Fuck," Severus said, thinking about Harry's mouth wrapped, so sweet and hot, around his prick. He came in a hot rush, spilling over his own belly and chest and even, to judge from the way Harry jerked, as far as Harry's face.

Chagrined, Severus wiped his hand on the rug. "Perhaps next time," he said with as much dignity as he could summon, and Harry, the little prat, burst out laughing.

"Next time," he said, trailing a finger through the cooling come on Severus's stomach. "Maybe in my office. Or yours. I could blow you under your desk while you mark essays?"

His tone made it a question, and Severus pulled Harry close, nestled his messy head on his shoulder. "My office. Honestly, first you destroy all order in the library, then you suggest we fornicate near all those books, with all the sticky body fluids inherent in the act--"

Harry silenced him with a kiss. "I think maybe, if you wanted to demonstrate the proper technique, I could." His cock, firming against Severus's hip, left no room for maybes, and Severus was all too happy to teach Harry, now that he was willing to accept Severus's expert advice.

* * *

Severus's talk of renting a flat for the summer lasted precisely a week before Harry tired of it and told him not to be ridiculous.

"If you feel like you have to pay me room and board, you can, but I'm not spending the whole summer in that house by myself. And you're not renting a flat so you can spend every night at my place anyway."

Harry, Severus felt, had grown bossy over the spring. Unfortunately Severus had grown lax about keeping such thoughts to himself, and they had a spectacular row and didn't speak to each other for the last five days of term. The stiff-backed silence ended when James stormed down to the school and yelled at him and it fell to Harry to break up the fight.

"Honestly," Harry said, handing James a cloth to staunch the flow of blood. "You would wait until Poppy left for the summer. At least the children have all gone home."

Severus said nothing but alternated between glaring at James and searching the infirmary shelves for something to dissolve the itchy horns sprouting from his forehead. Poppy was worse at shelving items in their correct places than Harry. "Blast that woman. I can't find the de-horning solution." 

Harry raked a hand through his hair, leaving crazed whorls behind. "Just stay here and don't kill each other. I'm going to fire call St Mungo's." He stalked off to Poppy's office.

Severus growled and started at the top shelf again.

"I told you not to hurt him," James said sulkily, and Severus gave up his search, scowling.

"Like it or not, Harry and I are going to fight," he said, scratching at the base of his horns. "I've stayed out of your efforts to rebuild your relationship with him, even when you push him too far. I expect the same courtesy from you."

James sighed and rubbed the back of his head, then winced as he encountered the bump there. Severus hoped it hurt. "I failed to protect him once, Severus."

Severus looked at his shoes. The soles were still smoking from the hot-foot jinx. "I know. I also know Harry was an impossible child who attracted trouble of the greatest magnitude. When he wasn't causing it himself."

James picked at the green blisters adorning his right arm and refused to meet Severus's gaze. "Look, I'll help you move in, if you want. Harry says you have a lot of books."

"You'll be careful with them," Severus said, drifting closer. " _Conforto_." The angry green skin smoothed out and faded to a pale olive.

"I will." James fiddled with his wand, sighed, and banished the horns he'd given Severus. "I was thinking about sending Harry abroad for his birthday. Maybe Athens. Maybe... maybe we could all go."

Severus didn't answer -- it was Harry's decision -- but he patted James awkwardly on the shoulder, with as much care as he might pat a blast-ended skrewt.

"Okay, the healer said to try--" Harry stopped short, stared at them, then threw up his hands. "I don't understand either of you." He stalked away, muttering under his breath, and James followed.

He caught up to Harry at the door, and said something that made the young man shake his head, a smile breaking through his irritation. When James put a hand on his shoulder, Harry didn't pull away.

Severus politely averted his eyes. He supposed he could tolerate James for a summer in Athens, particularly if he was paying for Severus--

"There it is!" Severus snatched the de-horning solution from the shelf. "Topical ointments! A first-year knows this belongs with the restructuring potions."

Grumbling to himself, Severus set about putting Poppy's potions in their proper order, and thinking of Harry and books and summer in Greece.

**Author's Note:**

> Semi-offscreen rape, underage, incest, mind-altering potions (James/Harry)


End file.
